Stranger Standing Alone
by Shulamit
Summary: Harry Potter is a lonely misfit with some extraordianary powers that he tries to hide...full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the canon characters. OC characters( if any) belong to me (obviously) and of course the plot belong to me.

Rating: T, it's mainly for safety. Abuse and rape but not graphic and a little language.

Summary: Harry Potter is a lonely misfit who hides a painful past while trying to fly under the radar, concealing some extraordinary powers amidst his 6th year, while Neville Longbottem, the Boy Who Lived, is struggling with Lord Voldemort's return and a secret that could change the BWL's life and the way people see him forever.

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_Stranger, Standing Alone_

Chapter One

September 1st, King's Cross Station

The usual throngs crowded King's Cross on September the first. Business men hurried to their trains while parents ushered families to their destinations. It was the usual morning rush, but it was also mixed with the most unusual. Dotted here and there through the crowds of people were children ranging in age with large trunks and some even with cages filled with owls. A new school year had started and students were streaming to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry Potter darted through the crowd as fast as his injuries would allow him, panting heavily. Now, he thought, was no time for magical security. Not bothering to stop and watch for muggles, he broke into a run and pushed himself and his trunk through the barrier to the platform holding the Hogwarts Express.

Just in time, he thought, as he heaved his belongings up onto the train and then set off to find a compartment. Choosing an abandoned one and the end, he settled down to lick his wounds. Lifting hi shirt he winced as he viewed the damage. It was just his luck. He could survive a fall from the top most balcony of St. Johns Home for Boys but still suffered from bruises and cuts. At least now he could hide them instead of having to cover them up the muggle way with powders and long sleeved shirts and pants. Sighing, he pulled out his wand and placed glamour charms over the worst of the scarring on his chest and upper arms. Hennerington had had a field day this summer, thinking bitterly about the Dean. But then again, he couldn't give the bastard all the credit. Running his hand over the now invisible writing scarred over his chest he had to admit that some of the decorations on his chest had been his handiwork. Harry pulled down his tee and laid his head against the window praying for sleep to come and give a respite from the nightmare he was living in.

With a jolt Harry jerked awake, not sure at what had awoken him. The sky outside the window was slowly darkening into a reddish hue and to the distance he could see mountains beginning to border the horizon. He glanced at his watch, wincing as pain ran through his chest and nether regions. He looked up as the train gave another screech. So that had been what had awoken him. But why would the train be stopping when there was no sign of the Hogsmead station in sight? Harry sat back down and waited, figuring the train would continue on its journey soon enough. Minutes passed and the train was still and a standstill. Grimacing in frustration, Harry got up and went to the door of his compartment, listening. The corridor outside of the small compartment was silent, no sound stirring in its desolation. Stepping out into the deserted corridor, Harry couldn't see nor hear anything from any of the surrounding compartments. Suddenly a blast of cold, clammy air hit his face and before he could act, a feeling of despair washed over him. Dimly he realized he could now here cries of help and panic before he sank into a world of memories he would rather forgotten. Bygone scenes flashed before his eyes forcing him to relive them.

_He was seven and he was panting as he tried to run with a twisted ankle and swollen knee. He was too slow, and they caught him again, yelling out their triumph as they pounded the senses from his body._

_He was four and was slowing starving in his small cupboard that was fashioned as a bedroom. He ventured out to get food, sure that his uncle was sleeping. A hand at the back of his neck and sharp whippings from a leather belt showed how wrong he was._

_He was six and was being dragged from the car into the rain. He was set down on the cold hard steps and then watched as his uncle drove away into the night. The sign he could barely make out read St. John's Home for Children._

_He was ten and was jumping from the highest balcony of the orphanage only to awake to find the bullies standing over him. He was supposed to have been dead. He had failed again. He had tried knives, cyanide, the noose, and even starvation. He was bound here to live…_

Jerk, creek. The train was moving again and gathering speed. Harry awoke to find himself laying face down on the floor, in the entrance of his compartment. Sweating and shaking violently, he picked himself up from the floor and huddled miserably into the farthest corner from the door, trying to block the memories from resurfacing again.

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Neville Longbottem scowled as he watched his two best friends continue to bicker about the dementors.

"Can you two give it a rest already? You're giving me a headache," he said, irritability obvious in his voice.

His two friends looked up in surprise and their usually placid friend.

"Something wrong Nev," asked Ron Weasley, looking over at his best friend who was leaning against the wall, an unreadable( at least to him) expression sketched on his face.

"Nah, I just love revisiting the graveyard every time a dementor gets near me," retorted Neville moodily, while staring out the window at the darkening sky.

"Oh Neville, we didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, you never seem to Hermione. I'm going to go for a walk you guys. I'll be back soon,"

"But Neville, we'll be there soon and you-,"

Neville shut the door soundly behind him, while pulling on his school robes with a Gryffindor prefect badge fixed to the front over his muggle tee and jeans. Reveling in the quiet coolness of the nearly empty corridor he began to walk down through the train, heading towards the farther end of the train. Passing a group of giggling girls he self consciously pulled a lock of light brown hair over his temple, in attempts to hide the famous pentagram scar on his forehead.

The pentagram scar, the little five pointed star that was the cause of all his problems, or so it seemed. It was what gave him away to every witch and wizard in wizarding Britain. Without it, he would have probably been able to go unnoticed in most crowds, because with his light brown hair, brow hair, and average height, he was pretty easy to overlook. Except for the scar. It was the scar that was his only souvenir from the attack on his house when he was a year old. The only souvenir except for his two parents that lay in St. Mungo's insane from being under a prolonged cruciatus curse. It was the scar that marked him as the Boy Who Lived, the only one to survive an attack from You-Know-Who himself. Of so they thought. No one, not even Albus Dumbledore could be completely sure that You-Know-Who actually had attack the house himself as there had been two attacks at the same time on the same night, October 31st 1981. An attack on the Longbottem's and an attack on the Potter's, in Godric's Hollow. Professor Dumbledore had told him that he had to be the one to defeat You-Know-Who because of all the magical residue on him and the house. There hadn't any dark magic on the Potter's house, nor on the soul survivor of the attack, Harry Potter. So, he Neville Longbottem, and been named the Boy Who Lived. All because of a little dark magic on his body and a scar that looked a little bloodier than the lightning bolt on Harry Potter's forehead. And he had never doubted it. Never questioned it until recently, no he had only started when the dementor attacks got worse and forgotten memories had been remembered.

The memories always started the same. He had lied to his friends; the nightmares weren't from the graveyard. The nightmares were memories that the dementors brought back to him. They started with blackness, night. Then the screams came, tortured screams of a man and a woman. Bright red light, and then….figures with white faces? At that point he would usually wake up. The thing that puzzled him though, was once he realized that these were his one year old memories that there was never You-Know-Who in the dreams. Never, not once did the feared Dark Lord make an appearance, and that was something that even he couldn't explain it away.

Neville sighed, no sense in brooding, at least not now. Not until he actually got to Hogwarts and got to see the Headmaster personally and talk to him. Then, for the first time in minutes, he looked up to see where he was going. He frowned, had he ever been this far down the train? This had to be the last car except for the baggage compartments. Peering into random compartments, most which he found to be empty; he turned to head back to the front of the train. Carelessly casting one last glance into an empty compartment he started back up the corridor.

Wait, was someone in there?. Neville turned back to the compartment he had just glanced into and pulled the door open with a shout.

"Hey, hey-are you okay?"

Shaking the figure that he found laying crumpled on the floor of the otherwise deserted compartment, Neville continued to ask frantically if they were okay.

"Hey, shit, I don't even know your name. Are you okay? What year are you? Can you hear me? Hello? Do you need help? Please answer me….," Neville said desperately.

Damn, this kid can't be more than a 4th year, he's so small, thought Neville as he continued to shake the boy, trying to wake him. Turning the small boys face so he could look at it, he gasped as he recognized the familiar features of his house and year mate.

"Potter? Potter, hey, are you okay? Harry, Harry…,"

Neville continued shaking the boy on the floor, when suddenly, emerald green eyes snapped open and a hand flew up to wrench his own from Harry's shoulder.

"Harry?" asked Neville, relief apparent in his voice.

"I'm fine," came the horse whisper, as Harry reached up to quickly wipe away a tear that threatened to fall. This movement did not escape Neville's notice.

"Um, what happened? I mean, unless you usually lay on the floor of the Hogwarts Express….," Neville's voice trailed off as dull emerald green eyes fixed their gaze on his face.

"Just the…nothing. I must of fallen asleep and then fell of the seat. I'm fine," Harry said, his voice staining not to crack with the tears of painful memories still so vivid.

"Oh…um, okay. Well, Ron and Hermione are waiting for me and….well, um, I guess I'll go. Since you're okay…right?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine. You can go," Harry said, turning his head to stare at the floor.

Harry finally looked up from the floor after he heard the click of a closing door. Six years. Six years of being in the same house, year, room and still doesn't even notice. But what did I expect anyway? I'm invisible in a visible body.

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A/N: Okay, this is my first multi-chapter fanfic, so any encouragement is welcome, along with constructive criticism. Also, I have been working on this chapter a very long time (long story….) so unfortunately I have lost a little bit of interest in the story, but if I get some reviews and people actually enjoy it I'll try my hardest to finish the story!

I'm pretty new at dialog ( all my other stories are oneshots with no dialog or poems) so bear with me!

Obviously the characters are going to be a bit OC, after all this is an AU fic, and I am not JKR so I can't right the characters like she does.

This chapter was dragged out a bit to give a little history and just to introduce you to the story. Hopefully the story will proceed a little more quickly in the future chapters.

As for romance, the main ship will probably be Harry/Ginny, but no guarantee that there will be any romance at all in this fic. Might just be friendship. We'll see how things progress.

Also, where I go to school this site is blocked, so I will only be able to update when I am on vacation and am at home. So updates will be a little spaced out. I'll try to get as many chapters updated while I am at home though!

Enjoy!

Shulamit


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't have any part in the creation of Harry Potter, nor own any part of it unless JKR decided to give it to me without kindly informing me so. And I seriously doubt that.

Rating: T, again just for safety!

Okay, this is creeping me out. On my computer desk there is a small mirror. Hanging on the closet behind me is a clear plastic garment bag (like what you get from the cleaners). The fan is on so it's blowing. Basically it looks like a….GHOST!!!! Nah, not really. Just looks like something moving which is also a bit creepy. Okay, this was just something random. Anyway, on with the story!

A/N: First off, thanks to my reviewers!!!! Love you guys!!!! Lots of kisses! Mwaah!!!!

Okay, this should be explained in the previous, present, and future chapters but I'll do it here anyway. The history in this AU is different than the history in the canon universe. The Longbottem/Potter attack was explained in the previous chapter. The Triwizard Tournament happened during the 4th at Hogwarts. The Tournament Tasks are canon except that Neville was the 4th champion. After the portkey during the Third Task will be explained later (it's basically canon with slight variations). Sirius Black escaped during the 5rd year. More on him in later chapters. This is the 6th year, but HBP isn't in the plot line (at least not yet…). I think that's everything! Enjoy the story, and please review!!!!

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_**No child should want to die. No child's spirit should be broken before it has a chance to fly to fly free. One should do all they can to preserve the innocence of youth for as long as they can, for once it is lost it is irretrievably. **_

_Stranger, Standing Alone_

Chapter Two: 

"First years, first years over here please," came the call for the new students, a clear call, void of all country accents that the usual professor of Care of Magical Creatures had.

That was odd. Why was Professor Grubblyplank leading the first years to the boats and not Hagrid? Neville bit his lip in worry and disappointment. He had been looking forward to seeing Hagrid again. Worry apparent in his eyes he turned to his friends.

"Guys, where do you think he could be?"

"Who?" asked Ron, preoccupied with tugging down the sleeves of his school robes in attempt to make them long enough to cover his wrists.

"Hagrid, who else?" Neville groaned mentally, honestly, how could you not notice that he is gone!

"Don't worry Neville; I'm sure he is fine. After all, he is half giant and most spells can't penetrate their skin. He's probably doing something to prepare for his classes," said Hermione, although Neville could hear the apprehension in her voice.

"Yeah, you're probably right Hermione," conceded Neville.

Finally stepping off the train and into the darkening night, Neville smiled as the cool air hit his face, calming his nerves that had been going haywire ever since the dementor attack. The dementor attack. He still didn't understand, why would they attack the train. It was just like last year when Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban and there had a few dementors patrolling Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade in search of him. Of course He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could have sent them but why? They hadn't Kissed anyone-all they had done was scare the living daylights out of people. Now, he could see where that would have come from, seeing as You-Know-Who was insane( at least from his point of view), but just to scare? Some how, he thought, that couldn't have been the only reason to send them. If he had sent them at all. There were dementors outside of the You-Know-Who's or the Ministry's control. Really, anyone could have sent them. Or nobody could have. Dementors do have minds and conscious feelings. They could have their own side. Only time could tell.

"Neville? Hello, anyone home? Mate, you in there?"

"What Ron?" snapped Neville, pushing the waving hand out of his face.

Ron dropped back, exasperation etched onto his face.

"We have to go, or we'll miss the feast. We already are going to be the last ones there, so will you get a move on? Some of us are starving here!"

"Come on Neville," laughed Hermione, "We don't want Ron to have an early demise because he succumbed from hunger from missing the start of term feast."

"Yeah, you're right Herm," joked Neville, his good spirits returning. "We wouldn't want to have Ron die on us. We would be getting to much thank you notes from all his brothers and it might disturb our school work!"

Laughing the trio made their way up to the castle, not noticing the slight figure walking a little ways behind them.

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Harry made his way up to the castle, head bent down, trying not to hear the sounds of laughter that were coming from up ahead. I'm not jealous he thought, I mean, who would want people constantly around and talking to you, bugging you, caring about you….Okay. So he was jealous. But who wouldn't be. Being a lonely teenage boy wasn't actually anyone's goal for their school career. But friends just aren't possible for me. I'm invisible after all. Nobody notices me. Not the teachers, or the Headmaster, or even Neville who has been my year mate for the past five years!

Lost in his thoughts, Harry failed to notice the tree root that was obscuring his path. With a strangled yelp and a light thump he hit the ground. Normally a fall like that wouldn't even hurt and one would just get up. But this wasn't normally. Already weak from his injuries from the summer, he let out a hiss of pain that was louder than he expected. Cursing out loud, he cradled his left elbow with his right hand, blinking away tears of pain from his eyes.

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Hermione stopped. She cocked her head to one side, as if listening to something.

"What's up Hermione, do you hear something?" asked Ron, looking sideways at her.

"I thought I did but now its gone-wait! There it is again, do you hear it? It sounds like a voice, coming from behind us."

They all turned around as one and peered into the dim light, or really darkness behind them.

"I think we should go check, someone might be hurt or something," exclaimed Ron.

"Are you crazy Ron? We don't know what it is, it might be a Death Eater or a trap!" whispered Hermione, peering into the gloom behind them nervously.

"Or we could just do-Lumos," Neville said blandly, activating the spell that lit up the path in the front of them.

"Ohmygosh, its Harry Potter," squeaked Hermione before running to the figure that lay on its side, cursing quietly.

"Harry?" said Neville in shock, suddenly remembering the scene on the train and running towards the said person.

"I can't believe I left him there, I knew he was hurt," cursed Neville.

"What? What are you talking about Neville," said Ron, casting a confused look at the Boy Who Lived.

Neville didn't bother answering as he caught up to Hermione and knelt next to Harry, who by now was sitting up and cradling is left elbow in the crook of his other arm and was trying to stand up. Pushing away Hermione's hands Harry got onto his knees and tried to stand before falling back down onto his already hurt elbow.

"Harry, don't get up! We'll get help, just tell us what's wrong" cried Hermione, trying to get Harry to sit down again.

"I'm fine, don't touch me" came the cracked whisper from the usually silent 6th year.

"No you're not! Something's wrong with your elbow! Just let me look at it already!"

"No, stop it! Don't touch it! I'm fine, its just sprained, okay? If I can just get to the castle I'll get pain reliever from Madame Pomfrey after the feast," shouted Harry, made nervous from the close proximity and touchings, while lying through his teeth. He would never go to the Hospital Wing, or let anyone know what happened to him every summer holiday.

Hermione drew back, shocked by the normally quiet boys outburst.

"Well, at least let us help you up. You can barely even sit up, let alone get up by yourself," she rationalized.

Harry silently submitted, allowing himself to be hoisted up by their arms. After a low "thanks" he made his way as quickly has possible up to the castle. Quickly has possible however, wasn't very quickly, leaving much time for Ron, Hermione, and Neville to catch up to the withdrawn boy. Coming up on either side of him, they walked with him up to the castle.

Once inside the stone walls of the castle, Harry fell back, and let the trio go ahead of him into the Great Hall, to the rest of the school. The others, intent on getting into the Hall before the speeches began didn't notice that there group had suddenly fallen in numbers. Squeezing inside the doors they slipped into the empty seats their other year mates had saved for them, they turned their attention to the sorting that had just begun. After the sorting ended, Professor Dumbledore stood up; sliver robes shimmering and blue eyes twinkling. The trio exchanged glances. The school year has officially begun.

"Welcome back, new faces and old, to another year at Hogwarts. Just a reminder that the forest at the edge of the grounds is off limits to students, as is magic is the corridors between classes. Any problems are to be reported to the staff, or the head boy and girl," pausing to smile down at the students, the Headmaster glanced at the doors to the Great Hall as if waiting for someone

"Now, I would like to welcome back this year to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts none other than Professor Remus Lupin!"

Loud cheering and hoots came from the students sitting below as a man with graying hair and slightly shabby robes stood up and nodded, acknowledging the cheerers.

Ron turned toward Neville and punched him on the shoulder.

"Who would have thought Lupin would come back to teach!"

"I think the real question here is how Dumbledore got the board to agree to have him back," commented Hermione, studying the DADA teacher that had sat back down after the applause had died down.

"Who cares, I'm just glad he's back" laughed Ron happily.

The Headmaster raised his hand and complete silence welcomed him.

"Also I would like to welcome back all the previous staff. Now, enjoy the feast and a new year at Hogwarts," with that, the Headmaster sat down and suddenly platters of food and beakers of liquids filled the table, amongst sounds of joy from the hungry students.

"Now this is the life" chortled Ron, as he shoveled food onto his plate, using two hands to grab everything is reach.

"That's pathetic Ron, its just food" remarked Hermione as she stared at him with something close to fascination as he proceeded to stuff his mouth with food.

"Something wrong Nev," asked Ron looking at his usually jovial friend, "You've been pretty quiet today."

"I'm okay, I'm just tired today. Hey, guys, where's Harry?" said Neville suddenly. He had just realized that the coal colored haired boy wasn't enjoying the feast with the rest of them.

"Isn't he here? I could have sworn I saw him" said Ron, looking around for the boy in question, who was nowhere to be found.

"He must have gone to the Hospital Wing," said Hermione calmly.

"Yeah, He probably did go…" said Neville, trailing off and he thought about the boy and came to the realization that Harry would never go to the Hospital Wing. Just then the doors to the Great Hall opened slightly and the student they had just been thinking about slid through them silently and sat down in an empty seat at the far end of the house table, unnoticed by most. Tilting his head slightly to the left, Neville studied him. He looked like he usually did, nothing special. His hair was the usual unruly tangle it always was, although it seemed to have lost most of the little luster it had ever had. His emerald green eyes had dark purple shadows like bruises under them and his mouth was pulled into the strait line, giving away no emotion. He looked no different then usual.

Neville sighed in exasperation. He didn't even know why he was even thinking about this. He didn't really have anything to do with Harry Potter, even though they had shared a dorm for 5 years prior to this one. Actually, Neville realized, no one really had anything to do with Harry Potter. He was kind of like a ghost, always silent and disappearing for hours at a time and showing up later, pale with haunted eyes. He made you nervous, with his intense stares that you got if you managed to get his attention on you, and his short replies.

But, though Neville, no one should really be alone like he was. Watching the teenager picking at the little food he had on his plate brought pity forth to Neville. Actually, Neville realized, I don't really know anything about him. I know what he looks like and what his name is but anything else? I don't even know where he lives. Staring long and hard at the boy at the end of the table, Neville lost himself in his thoughts until-

"Neville, come on already, the feast is over! Come on, we have to get the first years and tell the others the password!" came the impatient call from Hermione as she herded new Gryffindors across the Great Hall and up the marble staircase.

"Oh, right. I'm right behind you" Neville called back to her. He glanced one last time at Harry only to find that he had melted into the crowd leaving the feast. He had disappeared once again, not to be found by the probing eyes that were seeking him.

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Deep inside the ancient castle, through the changing staircases, past hidden passages, surrounded by magic older than infinity, lay the heart of the ageless fortress. The Headmaster's domain, in which now stood one of the most powerful wizards of the age, Albus Dumbledore, who stood facing the fire with his back to the door.

A soft rap was sounded, a knock on the door. The Headmaster turned and smiled as a middle aged man who looked worse for the wear entered the room.

"I was expecting you earlier,"

"Yes, but I decided that it might not be for the best to have a man who is wanted for mass murder to burst into the Great Hall during the start of term feast."

"Technically you aren't wanted for murder anymore"

"But that special little edition of the Daily Prophet doesn't come out until tomorrow, hence the word 'daily' and not nightly. Because it is night, in case you have gone to senile to realize it."

Albus Dumbledore let out a small chuckle.

"How could I ever let you back into this castle again? What could I have been thinking? Some of the professors are still traumatized from your years here."

"How dare you! Nah, they all miss me. I was the favorite after all, who could forget me?" sniffed the man, looking outraged before switching into a tired smile.

Albus smiled sadly at the man who sat in front of him dressed in a ragged cloak and dirt.

"Welcome home Sirius, welcome home."

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Harry slowly made his way up to the Gryffindor Common Room hours after the feast had ended. He had always hated the start of term feast. Too many people, too much noise, too many emotions being displayed at one time. You sat like sardines in a can, one person on each side. Shuddering, Harry came to the portrait that guarded the Common Room. Staring up at the Fat Lady in her pink dress, he realized that he didn't know the password. Sinking down onto the carpeted floor in the corridor outside his dormitories, he cursed his stupidity. Then again, he thought, I probably wouldn't have gotten the password anyway if I had gone up when I should have. After all, I'm just a shadow in color.

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A/N: Hmmm….don't really care for this chapter….oh well. So, I'll try to get in another chapter before I leave for school but no promises because my computer is very ill. Lots and lots of viruses on it. Anyway, boost my ego and review( if you don't I'll set my garment bag ghost on you!!). Anyway, read and enjoy! MWAA!!!!

Okay, I have no idea why there isn't any indentations on my story. This is quite annoying because now I have to tinker around with word. What fun.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill, don't own…. blahh blahhh blahhhhhhh….I don't even know why I bother doing this since this site is called fanfiction. You would think that it would be self explanatory.

**Rating:** Still T, just as its going to be for the entire story…never going to change….so why do I keep posting it? I don't know. If you know, contact me and tell me why….I know I'd love to know…I think I'm going in circles….odd….

This will probably be the last update before I leave for school again, but I am not abandoning this story! I will write the chapters when I'm away and then post them when I get back in December. But seriously, please review. I know people have been reading because I can check the stats….( I love secret author spying tools…they rock!)so please review. I'd love to hear your input on the story to help improve it (well no promises I'll actually change it but I still want to hear your opinion). So take a few seconds and jot (well type…) a few words and make my day! Thanks a bunchie!!! Oh and since I am suffering from major '_writer has too many ideas for too many different stories so they are driving her bonkers'_, the doctor has prescribe reviews. But you can't get them over the counter. What a pain. So be nice, review and save the world (umm…yeah…). Peace be with you and lots of luck in all your endeavors (erm….).

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_Stranger, Standing Alone_

Chapter Three:

A lone figure stood by the window looking out at the black trees of the Forbidden Forest at the edge of the grounds that were bathed in moonlight. Moonlight. Most people wouldn't even give it a second thought, but not him. No, he had to manage his life around the cycles of the lunar calendar, a calendar of pain and fear. That was his life, the life of a werewolf who was made to transform in the light of the full moon every month. But the lunar calendar was the farthest thing from his mind at the time. Oh yes, his thoughts were being preoccupied by one Sirius Black.

He sighed and put his hand up to his face, rubbing his palms to his eyes to wipe the weariness and worry that were etched around his eyes away.

"I can't believe he's back," he groaned, "what am I supposed to say to one of my best friends who, oh yeah, got thrown into Azkaban while I just sat there, not doing anything to stop it!"

"A nice simple 'I'm sorry' will do just fine Remus," said a quiet voice that came from the entranceway to his office.

Remus swung around to face the man who he had just been agonizing about.

"Sirius," he asked weakly, staring into the face of his betrayal.

"Hello Moony, long time no see. But that couldn't really be helped, seeing that I was, um…oh how can I put it? Detained? Inconveniently held up? On a prolonged vacation in the middle of the North Sea?" Sirius deadpanned before breaking into a smile and giving his only surviving childhood friend a bear hug.

Breaking the hug, Sirius stepped back and looked around the cluttered office that was full of creatures in cages and tanks, books, and boxes, and for some reason a full tea set.

"Nice office you got,"

"Yes but I haven't really gotten around to unpacking yet. I've been busy researching spells and hexes and shields to have time clean up."

"Yeah, he mentioned that. Said you were going to train Longbottem to fight properly."

"He needs it Sirius, during the Tournament, he made it threw on pure luck. He doesn't know how to duel-none of the students do, if they don't learn…sending them out there is…we might as well just hand them to Voldemort!"

"Yeah, you're right as always Moony," said Sirius pensively.

Sirius fidgeted, then sighed and got up to stare out the window. He opened his mouth then closed it. Again, again, and again. Remus looked on in amusement and joy to see his best friend alive and free again. Finally Sirius turned and sat back down to face Remus.

"What does Harry think about this, a convict being his Godfather?"

"Technically you aren't a convict," said Remus quietly, mirroring the words that had been spoken earlier in the evening.

Remus sighed, "He doesn't know."

"What!" Sirius exclaimed, jumping to his feet, shocked. "What did you say? He doesn't know? How doesn't he know! You were his teacher, you didn't tell him?"

"What was I supposed to say? Oh, hello Harry, guess what? I was your father's best friend oh, and you have a convicted murderer for a Godfather, who was also your father's best friend too, who is currently in Azkaban for selling out your parents and killing our other best friend?"

Sirius remained silent for many moments after this outburst then looked up, eyes weary.

"What's he like? Does he still look like James? Is he smart? Does he have friends? Is he like we were when we were in school? What house is he in? Did you tell him anything about the Marauder's?" questions started tumbling out of Sirius's mouth, one after the other.

"I….he's quiet, shy a bit. Didn't really say much during classes, but with Gryffindor and Slytherin third years sharing DADA classes….most of my attention was focused on disrupting fights between them. I didn't really see much of him outside of classes. When I did he was usually working on homework in the library anyway."

"So he doesn't know anything."

Remus sighed and leaned towards Sirius.

"About the Marauder's? No, he doesn't. I was going to give him the Map when I left at the end of year but….how could I explain that I had gone a year without telling him? And Dumbledore felt that it was better left as it was. I mean there was nothing really to be said then. We though Peter was dead, you were in Azkaban, and me? I couldn't do anything to help with So, we decided to just let things go."

Sirius stood up, staring at Remus.

"But now? Now we can tell him, right?"

"I suppose that it is up to you."

"What do you mean?" Sirius got up to walk closer to Remus.

"Just wait and see him for yourself. Then you will know."

**A/N: **Sorry so short. This is actually only half of a story but the other half is on paper and since with Succos and then I leave for school tomorrow, all I have is the first part typed. Sorry!

Oh, and BTW, this is NOT a Sirius/Remus story. I might make them seem like it is but it isn't (at least not yet)! So don't get any ideas!!!!

R&R!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I own EVERYTHING!!!!!!! That's why I waste my time on when I could be making millions! Hahahaha, what are you going to do?

**Rating: **Oddly enough it's actually the same exact rating as the last chapter. Weird.

Remus acting off in the last chapter? Well look at it this way. He just found out that his last surviving (or so he thought….icky Wormtail is still alive) childhood friend was innocent and he didn't believe him and he now has to teach DADA to an entire school, privately tutor Neville, and oh yeah, there is a WAR going on! So he can act a little off. And maybe he had a hangover, I don't know. He could have been high for all I know (okay, maybe not. My characters don't do drugs. –sniffs-)

Oh, and you want to flame? Flame to your hearts content! Give a bored author and her best friend something to laugh over!

WARNING: This chapter includes suicidal thoughts and previous attempts.

BTW, thank you to all my lovely reviews! Love ya guys to bits!!!!! Mwah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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_Stranger Standing Alone_

Chapter Four:

Embers were slowly dying among smoldering ash and wood in a stone fireplace. A high back wooden chair with ornamental carvings lay on its side with its former occupier standing in rage in front of it. The man standing in front of it was an odd looking creature. He was extremely tall but very thin with a hood drawn up over his otherwise bare head. Red eyes that were twins to the embers dying behind him were smoldering like fire beneath his black hood. His nostrils were two slits above a lipless mouth that was busy shouting at a man that was cowering at his feet.

"Why were there dementors on the train? They have chosen their side-the dark side! You were supposed to be making sure that they stayed in line! Why weren't you in Azkaban at the time?"

"Please, my lord, please. The Ministry, they were getting suspicious-I was being watched! I had already gone into Azkaban three times in the past month; no other caretakers have ever gone in as often! I had no excuse to go in!" the cowering figure babbled desperately to the feet of his master.

"You have failed me, Thineus, and you know what happens if one fails me."

"No, my lord-please! Please, forgive me-"

"Crucio!"

Harry awoke screaming, hands clapped to his forehead, trying to still the pain that pulsed there. Squeezing his eyes shut he rocked back and forth waiting for the pain to subside. Slowly the pain dulled to a throb that promised a headache later on. Shaking, he picked himself up from the floor of the corridor outside the Common Room. He looked around and then glanced at his watch. 3:23 am. Sighing he looked at the portrait that guarded Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady was asleep but he didn't know the password anyway. Harry began to walk down the corridor in the opposite direction of the Common Room.

Harry began to wander the halls, go down familiar passages ways, reveling in the quietness of the normally busying and noising castle. He loved Hogwarts. The castle was his home, his friend. The only thing he could ever trust, the only thing that was constant, never changing, never hurting him in his life. He climbed a staircase, carefully stepping over the trick step near the top, he took a look around. He was by the Room of Requirement. He had discovered that room during his fifth year, when he had been wandering around during the night. He had often stayed there after he woke up screaming from pain from his scar in his bed. Walking three times before the blank wall he stood back has a large black door appeared. Stepping through the threshold, he went straight to the large bed and laid down, hoping to get a few more hours sleep before classes the next day.

Try as he might however, sleep would not come. Carefully rolling onto his side, Harry stared at the wall which turned into a window that opened onto the lake for him. He sighed and rolled to face the other closing his eyes. He almost hated the Room of Requirement. He didn't like that a room could tell him what he wanted, that a room could almost see into his mind and soul. He didn't like feeling open.

Growling in annoyance, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Glancing down at his calves he winced, rubbing his hands over the large and rugged scar that lay on the left calf. He had done it when he had been 12. He had heard that there was a large artery in the leg, one that if cut would make you die of blood loss in a matter of minutes. It hadn't. Just like all the other times that had failed to kill him.

Harry frowned. The glamour should have hidden the scar. He knew that there wasn't much of a chance that anyone would be seeing his legs but he still always made sure everything was covered, just in case. He would have to research better glamour charms and soon or he would have to resort to muggle makeup again.

Harry stood up and made his way across the room to the door. It was obvious that he wasn't going to get more sleep tonight. He slipped through the door and made his way down the silent corridor. He was on the seventh floor and a few turns the right direction brought him to the steps of the North Tower. Harry made his way up the twisting staircase, up into the cool night air wrought with breezes. The boy stood facing the wind letting the soft breeze catch his face and lift his unruly locks. He stood there lost in thoughts about the past but the not the future. Never the future. He didn't want to think of the future, but not because of the normal reasons such as being afraid of changes and the unknown. No, he was afraid to think of the future because that the more he might think of it, the more he would have to live it. He couldn't bear the thought of having to continue, to having reminders of his past and even his present existence. He didn't want to have to think that he was trapped in his life, that for some unknown reason he wasn't able to move on, even by his own means. Most people's greatest fear is dying, Harry thought, but mine, mine is living.

It was more than cold. It was a deep bone chilling freeze that penetrated your blood and froze your very insides. But the ones gathering in this dark dank cold weren't affected. In fact they were the very reason that the cold existed. They were raging in sizes from a tall human man to a small child, wearing black cloaks. They had gathered in a dark room of dirty stone, making no noise except for the rattling gasps that were their breaths. No noise, until the one began to speak in a voice like a blackened whisper.

"Then the soul has been-"

"Nearly two decades past, " the largest and seemed to be leader of the group of dementors around him.

"How can that be," another whispered, "that soul was to never meant to be returned to a body.

Murmurs swirled like dead leaves around them, their cloaks rustling though no wind reached them.

"It was not," the leader finally spoke, "but it has been. And what has been done cannot be revoked."

"Then what can we do," spoke a figure in back.

"Is that you, Varanortht?"

"It is I, my Vizier."

"You have disappointed me, Varanortht, by allowing that soul to pass the Bridge. You know as well as the others who that soul once belonged to. Now that it has been reborn, it cannot die until its mission has been fulfilled. Its mission that it failed in the last times it was born into this world. And the last time was the seventh time. If it has progressed on to its eight time in this world the soul will be warped. It will not function properly and the person who possesses the souls can endanger all those who come in contact with it. Varanortht, you will find the one who possesses this soul. You will find it and bind it again to the Bridge of Souls. Do all you can to make this happen. And do it as soon as possible."

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**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my cat Spirit who died of kidney failure. **

**R&R!!!**


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